A/N: Sorry for the wait for this chapter, its a little longer than the previous chapters. Enjoy and thanks for your reviews thus far.
Frustration and exhaustion could be easily distinguished upon entering into Stella's office. Stopping at the threshold of the room, Lindsay watched her friend for a moment. Stella sat staring at her computer monitor, her hand cupping her chin while leaning on her desk. Her shoulders were slumped, indicating her frustration and lending to her fatigue. Stella was never one to let the team see her down; she was their rock and took it quite literally. Hesitating, Lindsay was not looking forward to presenting her findings. Thus far, the evidence was upholding Ron's now convenient alibi.
Deciding to announce her arrival, Lindsay knocked quietly watching as Stella perked immediately and her visibly downtrodden form vanished. Stella swivelled in her chair to face her guest, smiling as she met Lindsay's obviously worried gaze. The olive skinned woman gave Lindsay an encouraging look, trying to convince she was fine.
"Hey Stel," Lindsay greeted as she now entered into her office, coming to a stop beside her friend.
"Lindsay," Stella returned, eyeing the file folder the younger woman held nervously. Stella sighed and looked to Lindsay. "I'm not gonna like what that says am I?" she indicated, Lindsay shaking her head.
"Sorry Stella. Ron's lady friend, Isabelle, corroborated his story. Danny's looking into her financials; see if he paid her off or something..." Stella took the file from her colleague, placing it on her desk and browsing through it casually. Sighing once again, she closed the folder.
"I still don't believe it. There has to be something else we can use to get this guy," Stella leaned back in her chair tiredly as Lindsay rounded her desk and took up residence in a chair.
Silence passed between them as theories rattled through both their heads. Theories they had already posited several times but if they looked at them one more time, perhaps it just might lead to their 'smoking gun'. The melody of the lab drifted to them-the array of sounds that was the lab comforting in the fact that it was always present. Daylight was now streaming through the windows attesting to the fact that night had long since passed.
Stella knew that realistically, the whole team needed sleep and would get it soon, if she had anything to do about it. Stella could not rest now, not when it seemed they were so close. She needed this to be finished. At least if her teammates were able to get sleep, it would make Stella feel better. It would not be the first time she had stayed longer than everyone else to get the job done; especially for the cases that became passionate to her. Mac did it quite frequently himself.
Sitting forward, Stella stared down at the file folder for a moment before pulling out a piece of paper. Pushing her unruly hair behind her ear, she looked up to Lindsay with determination.
"Okay, let's go over again what we know. What the evidence tells us," Stella stated, watching as Lindsay pushed her chair closer to her desk. Recognizing her effort to start at the beginning again, to try to see if they had missed some connection or trivial piece of evidence.
"Alright," Lindsay agrees. "Well, the 911 call is placed by Jenny at 4:15am that morning. She stated that upon hearing a commotion from the horses she went into the barn finding our vic, David Forbes. Jenny reported not hearing anything suspicious before that. No shouting or fighting." Lindsay paused as she went over information in her head, watching as Stella scrawled the information on her paper. "I examined her apartment; it was built on the outside of the main barn on top of the feed room. Noise was very muffled, so what evidence we collected supported her statement," Lindsay added.
"Sid found very little on the body. No evidence that our vic fought off the attacker, which makes us assume he knew the person or at least did not feel threatened from them."Stella stated. Lindsay nodded in agreement. "We have the bruising on the neck from Forbes being strangled, no prints on the body. A couple flannel fibres were found, as well as horsehair matched to his horse, Oscar." Stella paused for a moment and then shook her head. "Nothing spectacular that's for sure," Stella added.
"I collected many...many..."Lindsay emphasized with a small smile, "prints off the stall door latches. Oscar's door latch had three sets of prints on it- the vic, Jenny's and Ron's. From the order of the prints, Forbe's prints were on top indicating that he was the last one who opened the door," Lindsay stated. "That means that he was killed after already being in the stall."
"When Flack called the stable owner, Ron now states he was with Isabelle. The place where he stated they meet is more than 45 minutes across town so if Ron was really with Isabelle, that means he could not have killed Forbes. There simply is not enough time to get back to the stable. The traffic camera that caught his car at 3:30am placed his vehicle about 20 minutes from his rendezvous site," Stella returned, frowning for a moment. Her face then lit up, a smile gracing her features. "Lindsay, Flack called Ron on his cell phone. We should be able to determine where he was at the time of the call. The closest cell tower should help us narrow down his location," Stella stated, feeling a little hopeful. A smile also lifted the corners of Lindsay's mouth.
"That's right," Lindsay replied, suddenly feeling silly for not thinking of that earlier. "Also, when Danny found that video he did say that it was hard to distinguish who was driving the vehicle--what if it was not him? What if it was all part of the plan?" Lindsay stated, the hopeless feeling beginning to recede. Stella stopped her shorthand and looked to the list of information they had already accumulated.
"Okay, well this makes a good theory. Now we need proof," Stella indicated, reading through the information. The older woman looked to her younger friend; the fatigue that had been present in Lindsay's features had slipped away at the prospect of this new information. Her shoulder length hair had been pulled back; she had obviously taken the time to freshen up. Wistfully, Stella thought about her own appearance, wondering if perhaps she should visit the locker room at least for a shower. The detective had done little to take care of herself in the last 24 hours. Lindsay's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
"Assuming the cell phone can give us his location, we still need to tie him to the body. Ron's gloves did match the lime and Hay dust trace collected off the vic's neck. "Lindsay paused for a moment, looking to Stella ruefully. "I went over those gloves very carefully Stella and I did not find anything," the young woman reported, her facial expression suddenly unsure, no doubt starting to blame herself for possibly missing something. Stella gave her friend a reassuring smile.
"Go over them again Lindsay. There has to be a piece of Forbe's somewhere on those gloves. A fresh look may be what you need," Stella added. The shrill ring of Stella's phone interrupted the silence that had settled between them.
"Bonasera," Stella stated into her phone. "Mac," the older woman said in greeting to her partner. A frown quickly adorned her features, her optimistic attitude dissipating.
"Stella, Kilner made bail. He is out; apparently, he used his charm to sway the judge that he was not a flight risk. He left 30 minutes ago." Mac's voice was low and angry.
"Mac, how does a guy accused of beating a girl unconscious get that option?" Stella asked angrily, trying not to focus her anger on Mac. She knew it was not his fault.
"I don't have a good answer for you Stella. He has been ordered to stay at his residence and stay away from Jenny," Mac indicated.
"Mac, that's not gonna stop him from seeing her," Stella responded, knowing that the young woman's worst fear could be coming true. Lindsay gave Stella a worried glance, picking up the conversation from the pieces she was hearing.
"I know Stella. I already called hospital security and they are aware he is not allowed on the premises. They will call NYPD if he is spotted or apprehended." Mac stated, knowing that this was doing nothing to stop either of them from worrying. There was a pause on Stella's end and for a moment, Mac thinking his partner had hung up.
"Mac, I have to go warn Jenny." Stella responded, already rising from her chair.
"Keep me updated Stella," Mac indicated, Stella knowing that he was warning her not to do anything stupid.
"I will Mac," Stella replied quickly before hanging up. Looking to Lindsay, Stella threw her hands up frustrated. "Ron made bail. I have to go see Jenny," Stella explained as she pulled her jacket on, securing her weapon in its holster. As she started out of her office, Lindsay followed.
"Lindsay I want you to find those phone records and have a look at those gloves again. Have Danny take a second look at that traffic camera footage," Stella ordered, giving Lindsay a reassuring look before heading purposely down the hall. Watching as her friend disappeared around the corner; Lindsay tried to ignore the nervous feeling in her stomach.
Jenny Logan could not remember when she had felt so bored. Staring out through the window of her room, cityscape greeted her- the brick wall of a building across the street her only view. Being up several floors meant she could not even watch pedestrian or car traffic. She was resigned to people watching through the door that exited into the hospital floor. Down the hall, she could hear the nurse's desk, the sounds of phones and people drifting in. She watched as several nurses walked about, obviously busy. Her nurse had already visited assuring everything was looking fine. The blonde haired young woman who looked no older than herself had then appeared with a breakfast tray, encouraging her to eat. Jenny's questions about her discharge had been politely rebuffed by the nurse, not that she really had anywhere to go.
Jenny looked down at her cereal, swishing it around in its bowl for a moment before again setting her spoon down. Her appetite was definitely suffering; she had no desire to eat. She had at least tried the muffin but ended up discarding it in the garbage. Looking up from her tray, Jenny watched as a middle-aged man who appeared to be a security guard nodded to her before parking himself outside her door. Jenny looked around helplessly, the guard remaining in place outside her door. Her heart rate jumped a few degrees, her mind going into over drive wondering why the sudden need for someone to watch her door.
The blonde haired nurse then entered into the room, nodding to the balding man as she passed. Noting Jenny's increased apprehension, she smiled reassuringly.
"The security guard has been ordered by the NYPD," the young woman explained, "From what I understand, it is a precaution only," she stated, while maintaining her smile. She indicated to her tray and Jenny shook her head, she was not hungry. The nurse took the tray and left, leaving Jenny with an increasing sense of worry in the pit of her stomach.
Deciding to try to take her mind off the guard, Jenny's thoughts returned to the night before. Her fingers gently felt around her face, her right eye not quite the size it had been initially. The swollen size made the eye sore and useless for the moment. The laceration to her forehead had steri-strips in place, the cuts to her hands requiring little more than time to heal properly. Her plaster cast was heavy and itchy, but it no longer held the reminders from her attack. The doctor had used blue wrap to brighten the cast but it did not make the prospect of having it on for six weeks any more inviting.
Jenny's thoughts returned to the detective, Stella, from the night before. The decision to call her had been one of desperation. After all, she barely knew the woman but something about her had reassured that the detective could be trusted. The fact that she had recognized that even though Jenny was unwilling to admit it, being left alone had been a daunting thought. There had been little conversation; Jenny had been unwilling to discuss anything, which Stella apparently understood because she had not pushed. The memories had been too fresh to discuss then, even now, she was not looking forward to that discussion. When she had eventually fallen into her medication-induced slumber, the attack had haunted her dreams and had mixed with demons from her past-- making her dreamscape an awful mix of her worst memories. Consciousness had been a welcome reprieve.
For the first time, Jenny began to wonder what she would do now. She no longer had a place to live or a job. Her finances were meagre, scraped together from what little she had been paid by Ron. It left her with very little options. Looking down at her hands nervously, Jenny wondered if she would finally have to return to Vermont. It was not home any more but she knew that jobs were available if needed. People would hire her. Pushing away memories that Jenny was unwilling to think about now--memories that would send her mental control toppling over. As it was, control was not a word she would associate with her present frame of mind.
The word brittle came to mind she thought morosely, going over the injuries to her hands in detail. Once again, her memory began to betray her, pulling her back into the previous night's event when a knock at the door interrupted their unwanted intrusion.
Jenny was surprised to see a familiar face staring back at her apprehensively, the older woman's brown eyes seeking her out to make eye contact. Ruth Kilner looked dubiously to the large security guard at the door.
"Is it okay if I come in?" Ruth asked, looking to both Jenny and the guard. The man gave Jenny a questioning look, silently asking if this woman was allowed in. Jenny simply shrugged her shoulders, indicating she may enter. Ruth smiled graciously, entering into the room slowly. She held a small bouquet of flowers in her hands, which she placed on Jenny's bedside table.
"I know you like daisies," Ruth stated, giving Jenny a sorrowful look. Jenny simply nodded, unsure of the older woman's intentions.
Ron's wife was a sweet woman; Jenny had always felt comfortable around her. Ruth had often brought Jenny baked goods and offered to wash her clothes on occasion—she had a much better personality than her husband did. It was obvious that it had been her way of trying to make up for Ron's ill-mannered behaviour. As Jenny watched the brown haired woman sit down at her bedside, it was easy to sense the unease. For the first time, Jenny felt uncomfortable with the woman she had considered a grandmother figure.
"What do you want Ruth?" Jenny finally asked after a minute of silence. Ruth's gaze rose from the bed linen to Jenny's face taking in the young woman's battered face. Jenny found the older woman's eyes filled with regret. Ruth stared at Jenny a few moments longer before attempting to speak, her voice only a whisper.
"I'm sorry," she stated simply, her gaze now moving down to her own hands. They were clenched around her purse, playing with the strap. "I never thought he would hurt you like that," she continued, once more looking up to Jenny. The older woman awaited her counterpart to react, to offer a comment but instead Jenny remained silent. Her silence caused Ruth to begin to ramble on.
"I...I knew Ron had anger issues. I also knew he went to see...see that hooker once a month," Ruth continued, knowing that her husband would be surprised to hear that information. She was not as clueless as he thought.
"And I knew that he did not treat you very well..."Ruth added, her mind drifting back to all the times Ron had returned home complaining about the young woman's work. "I'm not sure why you stayed around as long as you did...I suppose probably for the same reasons I have." Ruth stated with a sad smile, now noting that Jenny's gaze was misty eyed and boring into the wall opposite them.
"Jenny..." Ruth finally stated, closing her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts and stop her rambling, "I wanted to tell you that when I leave here I am going to the police department. I will give them whatever information they need to arrest Ron...." Ruth's voice failed her for a moment, allowing a small tear to trail down her cheek. "I know he killed David that night..."her voice became thick with emotion and Ruth had to gather herself again.
"That man is not the one I married and I am tired of ignoring his behaviour...or rather condoning it," Ruth finished, tightly reining in her emotions, not wanting to over-burden Jenny. The older woman was surprised when Jenny's hand covered her own. Ruth looked up to Jenny, finding understanding in her facial features.
"Thank you," Jenny replied quietly, unwilling to give voice to her full emotions behind Ruth's confession. It was hard to fathom that Ruth had put up with Ron treating Jenny so rotten but then the older woman had lived with that for many years. It was hard to be angry with a woman that was so honestly admitting what her husband was; especially when Ruth was the epitome of a law-abiding citizen.
A silence settled between them again, neither party sure of what to say next. The tapping of high-heeled shoes alerted them to the presence of another person, interupting their chance for further discussion.
"Jenny...everything alright?" Jenny looked up to find Stella looking worriedly at her from the doorway. Her hand was hovering at her hip, no doubt close to her weapon. Jenny could see Stella trying to determine if she as okay with the situation.
"I'm alright," Jenny responded quietly, watching as Stella entered into the room appraising the older woman sitting at her bedside. Ruth eyed the badge on Stella's hip and smiled at the curly haired detective.
"You must be the detective that helped Jenny out. Thank you," Ruth stated as she rose from the chair, clutching her purse nervously again. Stella watched the older woman, sensing her anxiety and feeling that something else was going on. Looking to Jenny, Stella could see that she sat rigidly with her hands playing with the bed linens.
"You are?" Stella asked suspiciously, the older woman smiling for a moment. Despite the fact that Jenny's mystery guest did not appear to be a threat, years of experience had taught her to count no one out when it came to threat assessment.
"I have the dubious pleasure of being Mrs Ruth Kilner," the older woman replied quietly, her facial features turning sombre. Stella looked to Jenny again, seeking confirmation of the information. She inclined her head slightly, indicating it was correct.
"Detective, before you begin asking questions about Ron, I want you to know that I came here only to tell Jenny I would testify against my husband. I also have information regarding David's death," Ruth stated, resolutely setting her shoulders and hardening her resolve for what she had to do. Seeing the look the detective was giving her Ruth continued. "Before you judge detective, just remember you do not know the whole story. Ron was a good soul once," she explained. The woman looked as if she would continue but emotion took hold for the moment, forcing her to cut short her explanation.
"Well Mrs Kilner, any information you can provide us will be most helpful," Stella stated, keeping her voice professional and giving the woman credit for doing the right thing. Ruth nodded, thankful for Stella's response.
"I will contact an officer to pick you up and take you to the precinct to collect your statement," Stella added, Ruth nodding in agreement. Turning to the door, she opened her cell phone to contact Mac.
Ruth turned to Jenny, who was unsure of how to feel over the turn of events. It felt like she was still on some terrible emotional roller coaster with no end. Ruth's visit felt like it was the last crack in a very weak foundation, which left it threatening to crumble from under her.
"Take care of yourself Jenny." Ruth offered, giving the young woman a smile and squeezing her hand encouragingly for a moment. Jenny was glad when Stella returned to her bedside; the emotional turmoil that Ruth was radiating was suffocating. She felt like she was drowning and needed a reprieve from the emotions that had been thrust into her lap.
"The security officer will escort you to meet the police officer," Stella explained, Ruth smiling before exiting quickly past them with the guard walking closely behind her.
Silence filled the room as Stella turned to Jenny. The young woman sat examining her hands, her unease evident.
"You okay?" Stella asked, looking to the flowers sitting on the table. Jenny shook her head, for once expressing her discomfort with the situation. What was it she had been calling her self control prior to her surprise guest—brittle? That was about how Jenny felt.
"I'm not sure how I should feel. Ruth pretty much just admitted to knowing Ron hurt me but did nothing about it," Jenny responded quietly. "I can't blame her though because I put up with his behaviour, I could have left at any time the same as her."
"She is taking a stand now and that takes courage. The same as you did," Stella reassured, watching as Jenny looked up from her hands. Seeing that she was unconvinced, Stella continued. "Jenny, all you can do is worry about the future. The past is the past-- you cannot change it. You have to deal with what is in front of you in order to move forward," Stella added, watching for her response.
Jenny shrugged her shoulders disheartened, truth was that had been the problem most of her life. She was so concerned with the past that she could not deal with the future. "How do I do that? I don't know if I can," Jenny replied truthfully, causing Stella to smile wholeheartedly.
"With help," Stella answered, giving Jenny's shoulder a squeeze.